by Beck, J. L.
“I would tell you to go away because kissing is gross and I would rather chew on a piece of bubble gum that was chewed on by three other people before I kissed you.”
Grinning, I tugged on her ponytail. “Good, I wouldn’t kiss you either.”
I smile faintly at the memory. That was before she was a liar, before she took everything away from me. I wasn’t sure which hurt most, her betrayal, the lies, or losing her as a friend. I forgot all about my selfish pain when she came walking into the church with a smile on her face, acting like she hadn’t done a damn thing.
Like she hadn’t ruined my fucking life. She had done nothing short of destroy my family and force us into a homeless shelter. Her lie ripped us apart. It ended my parents’ marriage. She didn’t deserve to be here, to enjoy the fucking hors d’oeuvres or drink the wine.
No, she deserves heartache, and I hope like hell, that she doesn’t plan on staying, because if she does, I’m going to break her, destroy her. I’ll send her back to wherever the fuck she came from crying, and she’ll think twice before crossing paths with me again.
Tonight I’ll give her a warning, the one and only time I will show her an ounce of mercy. Her mother may have weaseled her way into my father’s life but there is no way in fucking hell Ava’s going to find her way back into mine.
Stepsister or not, she’s dead to me.
She was dead to me the night she lied about me to her father.
A few minutes later, I leave the backroom of the clubhouse and sneak back into the reception without even a second glance from any of the patrons. I’m sure no one even noticed I was gone. They’re all much too busy gushing over Laura and her designer dress to care about me and my explorations.
Not that it would matter if they were, my father isn’t paying me any attention today anyway, matter of fact, ever since he started dating Laura a few months ago, he hasn’t paid me a lick of attention. I try not to dwell on it. It’s not like I’m a child anymore who needs his father’s affection left and right. I just don’t want Laura getting any ideas.
My gaze sweeps around the room, it looks like a bridal magazine had a baby with pink glitter in the reception area. There’s a sculpture of a swan carved from ice near the bar that’s puking wine and I can’t comprehend why my father would spend money on all this bullshit.
My eyes clash with Clark’s. Best friend and confidant, he’s been there through it all with me. Besides Ava, he’s the only one who knows me. A year after Ava left, he showed up with his father after losing his mother to cancer. We didn’t like each other right away but shared a mutual disdain for life. It was cruel and we were bearing the brunt of all of its wrongdoing. Crossing the room, I come to a stop right in front of him.
“You look like you just got laid.”
“I’ll never kiss and tell.” I give him a cheeky smile.
“No, you just fuck and tell, which means you got your dick sucked.”
“You know me so well.”
Clark shook his head. “A beer, my friend?”
“Thought you’d never ask.” I grin, taking the beer from his extended hand. We’re just shy of drinking age, but no one gives a shit and we’ve done worse things than underage drinking before. Bringing the bottle to my lips, I take a long pull of the beer and turn around surveying the room. The cold beer cools my heated inside. I can’t stop myself from seeking her out. It’s almost like we’re magnets being pulled toward each other, the pull too intense to break.
“She’s pretty,” Clark says nonchalantly.
Pretty? She’s gorgeous, out of his league but she’s like poison, killing you slowly.
“Don’t let her pretty face fool you. She’s also a master manipulator and the enemy, the fact that she has a pussy makes her even more dangerous. She’ll fuck you if she has to get what she wants, guarantee it. So, please, don’t go there, Clark.” My fingers grip onto the beer bottle, tightening.
“Whoa, that sounds a lot like jealousy, Van. Are you jealous?” His voice is teasing, light, and I glare at him in response.
He’s trying to stir the pot and as much as I usually like his antics, tonight isn’t a good night for that shit. I’m not jealous of Clark hooking up with Ava, in fact, I don’t give a fuck who he sticks his cock in. The lying bitch can get her heart broken for all I care. But that’s all I’ll let it be is a quick fuck.
“Jealousy isn't what I would call what I’m feeling. It’s more like burning fiery rage. I want to hurt her,” I murmur, turning my attention back toward our guests.
I drink Ava in like she’s a glass of water and I’m near death from dehydration. She’s stunning, her silky brown hair falls in soft curls down her back, framing her delicate heart-shaped face. Her skin is creamy white without a single blemish. She looks like an actual princess, delicate, fragile. Her full lips are painted blood red, but her eyes look innocent, which is funny since she’s anything but that.
“Maybe fucking her would help then?” Clark suggests, and my face deadpans.
“Fucking her? Really?” I lift a brow. “I don’t think fucking her would help at all. I don’t want her lying pussy wrapped around my dick. I want her crying, not writhing in pleasure, asshole.”
Clark shrugs, taking a drink of his beer. “Then I don’t know what to tell you. What can you do that doesn’t involve physically hurting her? And plus, who knows, maybe she just showed up for her mother’s wedding? Maybe her intentions aren’t as bad as you’re making them out to be?”
Always the benefit of the doubt kind of guy. Clark has no idea what he’s talking about.
“She better hope for her own sake that, that’s all she’s here for,” I ground out.
Though it’s doubtful. I’m pretty sure I heard my father talking to Laura about inviting Ava out to stay with us. If she’s smart, she won’t take the offer. She’ll run for the fucking hills.
Like a creep, I stare at her, watching her smile, and talk amongst the guests. There’s a darkness inside of me, an anger that’s laid dormant for a very long time, and it’s returning, rising up inside me like lava pushing out of a fucking volcano and when I erupt, she’s the first person I’m coming for.
“Ladies and gentlemen, it is time for the first dance. Please, Henry and Laura, come and let us see those sweet dance moves,” Steve, my father’s best man’s, voice which also happens to be Clark's father, rattles through the speakers.
The crowd parts making way for my father and his new wife. Everyone grows quiet as the music starts to play, all eyes on them, including my own. They dance, my father holding her close, while leaning in to most likely whisper sweet nothings in her ear.
Their smiles are dazzling and filled with love, so much love it’s truly disgusting. I take another swig of my beer to stomach the image before me.
No way can I bring myself to feel even an ounce of happiness for them. It will never happen, no matter how much Laura tries to warm up to me. In my eyes, she’ll always be the enemy’s mother. Resentment pools in my belly as they continue to dance. This stupid marriage was both a blessing and a nightmare.
A nightmare because it made Ava my stepsister, and a blessing because it brought her back to me, making it possible for me to get revenge, something I had told myself a million times over I would never get.
That night when we left with nothing but a few belongings after my father told me what she had done. I vowed to get even with her, and maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad, maybe I could’ve let it go, but then my parents divorced, and that drove the knife of betrayal deeper into my chest. Channeling all my feelings over it, I placed that blame on Ava as well, knowing that if I ever got the chance to see her again, if she ever showed her face in this town again, I would ruin her. And lucky me, her stuck up mother fell for my filthy rich father.
I try not to think about Laura being married to my father, basking in his riches while my mother got nothing after the divorce, not a single dime. I give her a few hundred dollars each month from my allowance so she can ge
t by. I don’t give a shit about the money, I would give her thousands if I could.
When the song ends and their dance is over, and thank god, I was close to puking, Steve’s voice booms through the room again causing me to roll my eyes. Enough with the sappy speeches and corny jokes already. Let’s just get drunk and forget this nightmare ever happened.
“Now as requested by the bride and groom, I would like to invite Vance and Ava to the dance floor to join their parents.”
The fuck? No way.
No. Fucking. Way.
The beer bottle in my hand almost slips to the floor. A wave of ahhs and ohhs whisper through the crowd, and all I can do is stand there, mouth parted in shock, unable to believe the words I just heard. No way, no motherfucking way.
“Here’s your chance…” Clark nudges me in the side.
“Now don’t be shy, you two. Get out here, and show your folks how it’s done,” Steve chuckles into the mic.
My gaze swings to my father who is giving me a don’t make a scene look. He told me to play nice and welcome Ava into the family, probably to please his new wife. But I’m never going to welcome her back into my life, not ever.
Grinding my teeth together so harshly I think I might chip one, I shove my beer into Clark’s chest and make my way out onto the dance floor.
Ava scurries across the dance floor meeting me in the center, she’s fidgeting with her hands, nervousness flickers in her green eyes. Does she expect me to reassure her, to tell her everything’s going to be okay? I almost expect her to run away, surely she knows I won’t let her stay here after what she did?
I’ve successfully avoided her all night while knowing this moment would come sooner or later. I just didn’t think we would have the entire fucking guest list staring at us when it did. That kind of makes saying what I want to her without everyone hearing or seeing obsolete, and if I fuck up, ruining my father’s wedding by being an asshole, then he’ll hand me my ass ten-fold. The next song starts, and I take a predatory step toward her.
Run. Run as fast as you can….
Forcing my curled fists to uncurl, I reach for her, grabbing her by the hip, pulling her into my chest before offering my other hand like a complete gentleman. She gasps softly through her parted lips at the contact and I take pleasure in knowing that I can get even the simplest of a reaction out of her.
Hesitantly, as if she already knows what will happen to her, she places her much smaller hand into mine and this weird electric current zings through me. It feels like I’ve stuck my finger in a light socket, and I want it to go away, but in order to do that I would have to let her go, and I’m not ready to do that, not yet.
No matter how much I try, I can’t help but notice how soft and warm her hand is inside of mine, the warmth of her touch seeping deep into my veins. Warm? Soft? What the hell, when did I grow a pussy? Why the hell am I thinking about her hand, about how tiny it is? She’s nothing, nothing but a fucking con-fucking-artist. I hate how she makes me feel, that she can evoke feelings from deep inside me that I shouldn’t feel for someone like her...for anyone, for that matter.
So fragile, soft, warm.
“Hi,” she whispers, her voice like a wisp of air blowing through the trees, as we start dancing. Hi? That’s what she says after all this time. After what she did to me…what she did to my family? Hi? What the fuck?
She should be crying, begging me to forgive her, not rambling some fucking hi like we’re long lost best friends or something. The blood in my veins boil, but I rein in my anger. When I don’t answer her, she keeps talking, carrying on like the last five years didn’t happen.
“So, I guess we’re going to the same college?” she asks, peering up at me through thick lashes. Up close, she looks breathtaking, which only drives my stake of hate for her deeper.
“Don’t!” I scold, through clenched teeth. “Don’t fucking pretend we are friends.”
Her whole body stiffens at my words, and my grip on her hip tightens. Shock flashes over her features and again, I’m baffled by how ignorant to this situation she is acting.
It’s an act. Plain and simple.
She might be able to fool everyone else, but she can’t fool me. I won’t be ensnared by her beauty. I mean, what did she think was going to happen? That she could just come back here and I would forgive and forget that she fucked me over?
Wrecked my family and my life, just to save her ass. It was a simple dare, but it ripped my entire world to pieces. We were only kids, but there were consequences for your actions and while she carried on with her fucking perfect life I suffered.
Unable to stop myself, I pull her closer, so close that her perky breasts are almost touching my chest. I can’t stop myself from looking at them. The last time I saw her, she was hardly a woman, and now she’s grown into herself, her body finally taking shape, her hips flaring, her breasts heaving.
Her sweet scent permeates the air, filling my nostrils. Maybe if I didn’t hate her so much, I’d find it appealing, but instead, I tell myself it’s revolting. Ignoring the way she feels against me, and the urge to inhale her, I lean down, my mouth pressing to the shell of her ear.
“This innocent act you’ve got going on, it’s cute and all, but I see right through it. I can smell bullshit a mile away and you smell like you’ve bathed in it.”
“Wh...what?” Her body trembles in my hold and her breath hitches in her throat like she might be scared. Be scared, cry, run… get as far away from me as you can.
“This is your only warning. Leave, go back to wherever the fuck it is you came from...and I’ll take mercy on you, just this once.” I lick my lips, pulling back, letting my eyes drop to her slender neck. I can see her pulse thrumming beneath the skin, giving away her fear and I can’t stop the sinister smile that appears on my lips. I shouldn’t crave her pain, her fear like I do. I know it’s fucked up, but I didn’t do this. She did.
My body tingles, my heart jack-hammering in my chest. Her fear is like my own personal brand of heroin and I’ll do anything I can to get another hit.
“Stay, and I'll make you wish you never met me. One way or another, I’ll send you back to your daddy. I’ll make you pay...”
The song ends right then, and I release her like she’s a venomous snake that’ll strike at any second, refusing to give in to the need burning through me, the need to make her hurt, to feel my pain. Turning around, I stalk off the dance floor and back over to Clark, who is smiling like a fucking asshole. I hate her, but I also want her.
I grab my beer from him and down the entire thing at once. I don’t want to see her face again. I can’t handle seeing her play the innocent little girl when I know all too well that she’s a liar. A beautiful one at that.
28
Ava
What the hell was that?
My whole body is shaking as I watch Vance walk away. I’m not sure what I expected our first interaction to be like, but it certainly wasn’t like that. My hand is still warm from where he was holding onto it and I think he burned a hole in my dress where he was touching my hip.
Why is he so angry with me?
I’ve been watching him from afar all day. Too scared to talk to him after so long. It didn’t take but one look for me to know that the boy I had known since I was a young child was no longer a boy, but now a man.
A dark, broody, man that apparently had it out for me. His warning rung inside my head. Disdain dripped from his words, there was venom in his eyes and he wanted to inject me with it, but why?
I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, or forget the way he looked down at me during our dance. The image will forever be ingrained in my mind, and I don’t understand why. He’s handsome as sin, his hair the same russet brown, but cut shorter on the sides and longer on top. His jaw is sharp, and his cheekbones are high. And those green eyes of his, seem darker now, holding secrets that I plan to expose. Obviously time has been good to him, he looks like he walked off the cover of a GQ magazine.
Sha
king my head, I will the images away. Trying to forget how it felt when he touched me. Those butterflies I got in my stomach all those years ago, it felt like there was an entire zoo of them taking up residence inside me. His sudden hate for me is nothing but confusing. It should be me who is mad, not him. I’ve lost everything, and he...he got it all. Just like Henry and my mother, he got everything he wanted.
The poor boy he used to be, the one with nothing had everything now, and the roles were reversed. The girl who once upon a time, had it all, had nothing.
People start to flood back onto the dance floor, and I realize that I’m still standing in the middle of the room. Everyone joins in to celebrate the happy couple and I force my lips to pull into a smile as I smooth a nervous hand down the front of my dress.
I feel dizzy, drunk, and all from one simple dance.
It takes me a moment to compose myself and get my legs to start moving again, but once they do, I find my way out of the crowd, walking toward the bridal party table. I look around, trying to find my mother in the sea of bodies, but all I see is hundreds of faces that I don’t know.
All my fears start to trickle into my mind. A knot forms in my throat. I’ve never felt so out of place in my life. Like a flower in a sea of weeds, I stick out, drawing unwanted attention.
I heard some of the guests whispering about me, about how my mother only married for money, and how my father was a drunk. Their words stung even if they weren’t directly said to me. It almost hurt more that they said them behind my back.
Trying to soothe the ache in my chest, I remind myself that I’m not here for anyone else, but still Vance’s warning isn’t something I can just shake off. Surely he didn’t mean what he had said? Maybe he was joking? Yeah, I don’t think so...
I glance around the room again, silently searching for him, but he’s nowhere in sight. And suddenly I’m reminded of why I never should’ve agreed to come here.